The Prototype of Grand Templar and Mentor Assassin
by YunaBlaze
Summary: When Alexander J. Mercer dropped the nuclear bomb in the ocean, he did not expect to be sent back in time to 18th century where the Revolution would soon begin, and got into the secret war between Assassins and Templars. The worst part was that the two men he came to care were at each other's throat, both because of personal and duty matters. And he was stuck between them.
1. 00 - Prologue

**Disclaimer - I do not own Assassin's Creed or Prototype franchise. They both belong to their rightful owner. I am simply writing this story out of boredom and to get this crazy idea out of my head.**

* * *

Prologue

Alexander J. Mercer was feeling hesitation for the first time since he had woke up in Gentek Headquarters' morgue. He was lost when he first came back to life, his memories were blank and, in his fears, he barely noticed the monstrous changes that had happened to him. His body, mind and soul were entirely made of a virus called Blacklight, a creation of his and the cause of the destruction over Manhattan. He became known as the Prototype, Zeus.

Alex looked at the transparent reflection of his on the helicopter's glass and truly studied himself for the first time. He wore three layers of clothes: a button-up white shirt, a plain grey hoodie, and a black leather jacket with a red tribal design on the back. His lower body was covered by a plain blue jeans and black shoes. His clothes covered nearly every inch of his body, except his face and hands, those were the only parts of him that showed he was human, a fake cover of humanity. Especially his piercing light blue eyes tainted with a sickly grey colour that couldn't be overshadowed by the hood. Everything about him was fake. It was created by the Blacklight virus, and even his identity was stolen from the deceased scientist and creator of this virus, the real Alexander J. Mercer, who was the Head of Gentek Research Project. Yet, Dr. Mercer's sister was real to him, she cared for him despite seeing the monster he was. Now Dana Mercer laid in a coma at a St. Paul Hospital under the care of Dr. Bradley Ragland, because he had released Elizabeth Greene, the host of the Redlight virus from which Blacklight was derived from.

He was a virus. He had taken everything from the deceased doctor, such as name, body, memories and family. There was nothing that truly belonged to him, only the carnage and gore he left behind over the streets of Manhattan and the pain screams he could still hear of the victims he had consumed to either accumulate biomass or infiltrate into Blackwatch's army bases. His hunt for the truth of what had happened to him led him to a horrifying revelation. He, or his predecessor Dr. Mercer, had unleashed the Blacklight virus at Penn Station and brought Hell over Manhattan for three long weeks. He found the truth, but he did not like it.

Here he was, in a helicopter, flying over the vast Atlantic Ocean with an armed nuclear warhead that was supposed to erase New York's infection. He dropped the bomb into the vast sea after he deemed the explosion wasn't near any populated area and turned tail to leave, but he was still within the blast radius when the nuclear bomb detonated.

The last thought in his mind was. _Damn._

And the last thing he felt was pain and fear as a bright white light covered his vision.

* * *

The first thing the virus felt, after devouring a small bird, was its disgust of water, its formless shape crawled slowly out of the water, still trying to reconstruct its human form, but the avian provided very little biomass for a full recovery, so the mass began slipping through sand, earth and grass as it hunted for a creature's biomass. The virus found one. A hunter who had became the hunted, the virus jumped on the man and started consuming his entire body until, Alex Mercer's body was all that remained.

Mercer kept his eyes closed as memories and knowledge was being branded within his mind until the very last second of the victim's life faded away. His body's biomass began shifting in red and black tendrils until Mercer was gone and replaced by the hunter he had consumed. Pale skin replaced by tanned skin, hair became long and braided on one side, modern clothes replaced by Native American clothing, and weapons and accessories materialized. The transformation was completed.

'_Ratonhnhaké:ton_,' someone called out in Mohawk from behind him. Mercer inwardly smirked as he turned to greet the person with his face void of emotion.

* * *

**Probably the worse out of the worse idea I ever had, but I really wish that you readers will leave some reviews for me. This is the first time I write an Assassin's Creed and Prototype Crossover, so some characters might seem out of it. Please review!**


	2. 01 - Put up a Good Show

******Disclaimer - I do not own Assassin's Creed or Prototype franchise. They both belong to their rightful owner. **

* * *

Put up a Good Show

Ratonhnhaké:ton, or Alex Mercer, was having both a fun and boring life. He was at first surprised to discover that he had somehow time traveled to the 18th century, 1752 to be more precise, and the man he had consumed to regenerate his body was a Kanien'kehá:ka, commonly known as a Mohawk in his time, lived in the village of Kanatahséton located in Mohawk Valley. Thankfully, one of his consumed victims was actually an American Revolution War fan, the knowledge helped him, and he was slowly preparing to move out of New England before the war began.

For two years, he was able to pass for Ratonhnhaké:ton in front of most of the villagers, even Ratonhnhaké:ton's friends, but he wasn't able to hide from two women. Somehow, the two women, with no advanced technology of whatsoever, had seen through his disguise. One treated him well enough that he almost thought he was seeing an aged Dana who was trying to find a pacifistic way to resolve things. The other simply treated him as if he didn't exist or kept her distance from him. They were respectively the clan mother, Oiá:ner, and Kaniehtí:io, or Ziio, Ratonhnhaké:ton's supposed-to-be fiancée.

'_Ratonhnhaké:ton_,' the clan mother called out as she gestured for him to come closer. Usually, Mercer would have just greeted her and went on with his day, or just talk to her and learn things in a normal _human_ pace. Still he respected the old woman well enough to listen to her. '_Kaniehtí:io and some of our people got captured._'

Alex almost groaned out loud. The other thing Oiá:ner reminded him of Dana was that she would boss him around or send him to do some chores, like hunting or helping someone. He wondered why he hadn't broke someone in half since he had arrived. After all, carnage seemed to be the only thing he was good at. Then again, this was colonial time, there was nothing that could keep up with him and neither was there some kind of entertainment to distract him. Helping people at least passed time and it gave him an excuse to leave the village. Alex nearly scoffed as he remembered something his sister had told him before she got kidnapped. Helping others was good for the soul.

'_Don't worry. I will find them and bring them back_,' Alex answered as he started heading towards the general direction where Boston was located, when he was far enough from the villager where he was sure no one would accidentally stumble upon him, he quickly transformed himself back to his old self.

With his enhanced speed, he should make it to Boston before Ziio's captors even arrived, giving him more than enough time to set an ambush. He quickly changed into one of the Colonist forms he had consumed when he had first visited Boston. Thankfully, the streets were mostly emptied because of the rain, so it didn't require much effort to pretend to be one of the civilians in this rotten city. He first went to the dock to retrieve some of the necessary _materials _he would need for the upcoming ambush.

Though it was a bit difficult to transfer said material to the main street where the ambush would take place. It was not because they were heavy, Alex could easily pull a military tank up and throw it to nearby enemies without a sweat. The problem he had was that they wouldn't stop barking like there was no tomorrow.

Dragging the dogs towards closer to the ambush site, he turned his hands into dozens of tendrils and inserted something he had nicknamed as a "bio-bomb" into the animals as they tried to claw out of his hold. When the loud sounds of people marching got closer, he released the infected hounds that ran out of the dark alley to escape the monster, but when they reached the middle of the street, where Redcoat soldiers were about to just walk pass them, red and black tendrils consumed their body, and even larger tendrils emerged from the moving masses that were once the animals. Some of the soldiers were praying to God as they watched in fear as the tendrils burst out in 360 degree and grabbing hold of the people, ground and stone walls before the attached objects were pulled towards the center and exploded. Panic and yells rang in the air as the remaining Redcoats, screaming their head off, ran away from the terrible sight of blood and pieces of flesh.

When the last of the Redcoats left, Alex moved in as Ratonhnhaké:ton and greeted Ziio who gave him a look that asked him if it was really necessary for him to do this. The virus shrugged at the look as he broke the lock and cut the rope that bound Ziio's hands. The Native woman rubbed them lightly as she said in her mother tongue, '_There are still some of our people trapped at the Southgate Fort by the man named Silas, a slaver._'

Both Natives turned and continued down the road, heading towards the Southgate Fort, oblivious to the eyes that were following them.

* * *

One of the other things Mercer did to get rid of his boredom was going into the city and caused all sort of trouble, nothing that would attract too many attention, like ripping someone to pieces or spilling someone's organs out. He would then set a challenge to himself, like beating 20 guys in two minutes or having an entire squad of Redcoats chasing him and he needed to hide without using his shape shift ability or super speed to escape. Restriction and stealth were never his forte, so he supposed one day that he should start training himself to get better. Alex had felt weak back then when his powers were sealed, because of a biological parasite Gentek created to deal with him, so at that moment he refused to feel that again. Stealth would be useful if he ever found a job in assassination when he left America, and it would probably help him lay low for a while.

Alex was grinning madly as he and Ziio reached the fort, hiding under the cover of bushes, observing and remembering the patterns of each soldier's march. _Should I set the game for timing? No, no, no, they might use the prisoners. Perhaps a stealthy approach?_

Boredom could really drive people crazy, especially a Prototype.

After ten minutes of non-blinking observation, Ziio asked, '_Why haven't you left yet?_'

Alex paused in his mental challenge planning and turned his attention on the Native woman who was still spying on the British. The virus was uncertain how to answer that. He had money, enough to travel to some place else. He was free and he was unknown. Alex closed his eyes as if it would help him find a clear answer to Ziio's question. In truth, he knew why he wanted to stay and why he did not want to stay. What he knew was that the village and Boston were the only two places his Mohawk victim had knowledge about, but outside of those two areas, he knew nothing of this world. Staying in Mohawk Valley felt safe, much like the safe house Dana had shown him, it was a place where he could return to, but that apartment was gone along with its safety. Mohawk Valley would follow soon when the Revolution began. He could leave, but he would just wander aimlessly in this foreign world. He had no faith in himself, no belief or trust on anything. It might be a soul-searching journey one day.

'_Because I have no where else to go_,' Alex finally answered, truthfully for once. Before he stood up and held a hand out. '_Stay here. I'll go get everyone out._'

He quickly left the Native behind and crept into one of the shadowed spots where he shifted his clothing to that of a Redcoat and walked into the fort, walking pass soldiers or leaning against some stack-up boxes when a small squad passed, hiding in plain site. He spotted three locations where the prisoners were held, though he was frowning heavily when he saw three of the captured Natives were stashed on a boat surrounded byTWICE-BE-DAMNED WATER. Despite the fact that his body was pretty much invulnerable against everything, Dr. Mercer's hydrophobia was imbedded in his mind to the point that whenever his head was under water, he would instinctively jumped out of it.

Alex shook his head lightly, hoping to get rid of the fear creeping in the back of his mind, as he went to release the prisoners on the land before getting on the boat. He would have consumed the unlucky guards that were looking after the prisoners, but he did not think it was worth to announce to the entire New England that he was a monster that could devour its preys without leaving bones behind. When he turned to head towards the dread ship, he saw someone else freeing the hostages. Alex ignored the man for now, because he had to get the Natives out of here before Silas noticed anything.

By getting out, he meant going with a huge bang. Alex cringed slightly when he heard Silas shouted, 'An hour of quiet was all I asked. Instead I'm awakened not ten minutes later by this cacophonous madness! I expect an explanation – and it had best be good!'

When the high-ranking officer walked towards the ledge to see what caused the commotion, Alex's lips stretched into a feral smirk as he watched the man shouting at his soldiers about his _merchandises_ being set free. While he knew that he was going to fight those pawns around the king with his axe and arrows instead of his claws and blade, Alex couldn't help but feel his desire for slaughter grow. It had been too long since he had painted something in blood.

While Ziio came and led her people to battle, Alex already dashed towards the squad that was preparing to fire at them and killed them brutally.

Haytham Kenway had been a killer since he was ten. As a Templar, he had seen wars and battles that could break even the sanest man in the world. His life was made of death of his allies and enemies. He killed his opponents quickly and effectively, and he never harmed any innocent or bystander who had accidentally witnessed his kill, much like the Assassins and their creed.

Apparently, New World showed him that he hadn't seen everything _yet_. He had gathered the allies Reginald Birch had appointed to him and they would set out to find the precursor's storehouse and retrieve the artefacts within it. William Johnson told him that the markings on the precursor key were similar to that of the Mohawk tribe. Thomas Hickey suggested that they saved some of the Native American slaves to earn to trust. Haytham planned to infiltrate the Southgate Fort by ambushing a convoy of new slaves, but someone had beaten them to it and released the prisoners. The man had left a gory scene behind, one that unsettled his companions and him.

Now Haytham saw the man again, he couldn't help but study him, he was like many of the Natives, but unlike the others, he fought like a rabid animal, there were no grace or precision in his strikes, there was only the desire to crush his enemies. The Templar quickly turned his attention to assassinate Silas and apparently, the Native berserker was also heading for the leader of this fort. The action both unnerved and angered him.

Kenway never had anyone challenge him and even those who did prove to be a weaker adversary. This man was no different.

While he started climbing his way up to Silas' position, the Native simply barged through the Redcoats, slicing and cutting the obstacles away as if they were nothing more than high grass. Haytham doubled his effort to reach his target when the man reached the upper level, he reached the top, pulling out his pistol, and fired at the slaver's stomach just as a tomahawk cut through the air and imbedded in shoulder of the man. Haytham looked back at where the weapon was thrown from and spotted the Native warrior who was staring at him. Both men stared at each other for a minute before someone yelled, '_Ratonhnhaké:ton!_'

The man, Ratonhnhaké:ton, broke eye contact to look at the woman he came with, she was gesturing to the gate. Ratonhnhaké:ton hesitated, staring back and forth between him and her, then he relaxed and stepped back, but his gaze were still very predatory. The Native then jumped over the stone stairways to join his gathering kin as the woman pushed him to help an injured comerade. Haytham removed his tricorn hat and leaned against edge to study the two Native Americans who, with no extra man power or weapons, had successfully stormed an entire fort effortlessly and without any of their people dying in the process.

Ratonhnhaké:ton seemed to notice his stare and turned around to glare at him, surprising Haytham enough that he immediately turned his gaze to the woman next to him. Haytham didn't know why, but he couldn't but be facinated by the foreigner. The man pushed him to reach his target faster, challenging him and he somehow managed to keep up with him, something no one had been able to. A small part of his mind whispered. _Both a dangerous and exotic creature._

The British paled slightly at the last thought and instantly focused his entire attention on the woman beside Ratonhnhaké:ton. Haytham never once questioned whether he liked men or women, seeing that he spent his entire life seeking vengerance on those who had tore his family apart and looking for his sister, Jennifer Scott Kenway, and devoting himself to the Order's cause. His frown deepened when he remembered Jenny teasing him about only liking beautiful things. Sure, he liked beautiful things, such as weapons, a bit on clothings, and tricorn hats, but he did not think his interest in pretty things went over love interest too.

He shivered slightly as he glanced back at the Native man, who was holding his injured brethan up, glared him with more force than before, he refocused on the female who was now giving him a small smile which he returned before the woman's face was blank once more and left with Ratonhnhaké:ton trailing behind.

Charles Lee came over then and asked, 'What happens now?'

'We wait,' Haytham answered. Voice professional and serious, his nervousness over the foreigner's gaze evaporated. 'Though not for very long, I suspect...'

* * *

_It was after weeks of patient waiting that I see that man again. It was also when my feelings turned into a storm. It was one that I could not calm. One that I knew would later affect my duties..._


	3. 02 - My Hunt My Prey

**Disclaimer - Assassin's Creed and Prototype all belong to their rightful owners. This story is beta by Trondason.**

* * *

My Hunt My Prey

Alex yawned and stretched slightly as he stared at the never ending snowy forest. It was weeks with no action and boring hunts, he still did not understand why he had to come to begin with, because more than half of the animals in the forest knew he was the biggest and meanest hunter, they either all gave him space or ran away from him like a plague. Alex kept a close watch around the area, while Ziio was going out to set some traps before they both lured some of the animals into them. Actually, he would be the only one doing the "lure" part of the plan.

Suddenly a gunshot rang in the air, Alex froze on his spot as he focused his senses to his surrounding, hearing laboured breathing and heavy footing over the snow, and small and light footing over wood. Someone was chasing Ziio. Alex immediately bolted after the direction where the sound came, the snow did not hider him the slightest. Then he spotted some shadows running around him. The wolves were the only creatures that seemed to dare hunting his preys. Probably, because of their number being bigger and they could easily snatch something while he was preoccupied.

'You try my patience, woman!'

Alex frowned when he heard the voice. He was not pleased with the way the man spoke to his friend. Well, Ziio still treated him the cold shoulder. She had accepted the bit that he was wearing her fiancé's face, but she still disliked his methods of _solving_ things. The virus let out a growl as he spotted the man chasing Ziio, who was out of reach from the trees, and tackled the man into the snow. His hand gripping the knife tightly enough that he left a handprint on it and their face were only a few small inches from each other. He faltered slightly as he recognized the man who had saved the last batch of slaves from the boat.

He would have started questioning the man on why he was here, but he heard the soft growl of a wolf and released the man in a second before the canine creature flew passed, both men stood immediately as they turned to face the wolves that had them surrounded, Alex told Ziio to stay in the trees as one the wolves charged towards, he caught it in its mid-air jump and stabbed it in the head, the British did the same, but with a hidden blade. When another pair of wolves fell in a similar manner, the rest of the pack became more cautious as they continued observing them while turning in circle, looking for an opening for them to catch one of them off guard.

The Blacklight virus wasn't worried, because he knew from experience already that wolves would retreat if they deemed their target to be too dangerous or another pack had found food for them. At that moment a long howl was sounded in the cold air as the pack looked at the source of the noise and ran towards the direction, only one remained long enough to snarl at him before joining its group.

The moment the wolves disappeared from view, Alex and Haytham returned to previous position, with Alex on top and one hand wrapped tightly the British man's neck, the other one held the blade back and readied to strike, as he demanded, 'What do you want?'

The man held out both hand in surrender as he said with a pace that was reserved for the deaf, 'Me. Haytham. I come. In peace.'

Alex felt the strange urge to punch the man for speaking like that, but he was wearing Ratonhnhaké:tone's skin, so he concluded that the British didn't know that both he and Ziio understood every word he said without speaking in such a slow pace. Speaking which, Ziio jumped down and spoke with the same tone Haytham did before, but dripped with sarcasm in it, 'Why. Are. You. Speaking. So. Slow.'

Haytham sighed tiredly, though Alex was certain that it was also out of embarrassment, before he muttered, 'Sorry.'

Alex relaxed his hand slightly as he repeated, 'I ask again. What do you want?'

'Well, both of your names, for one, but is it possible to discuss this with both of us standing?' said Haytham, moving his free hand between them and gesturing at their awkward position.

Alex nodded, but his hand tightened for second as a warning that if he dared to do something suspicious, he would not hesitate to end his life. Both of them stood, Haytham dusting off the snow while Ziio started, 'I'm Kaniehtí:io.'

'Pleased to meet you,' Haytham greeted properly. 'Godz-zio?'

'Just called me Ziio,' Kaniehtí:io said flatly after hearing the stumbling and pauses in her name.

'Oiio?' the British pronounced.

'Ziio,' the Native woman corrected harshly.

The British cringed a bit at her sharp tone, but he repeated the name again and this time he got the sound right. Haytham glanced at him, Alex smirked slightly at his hesitation in learning his name, but the virus was _slightly_ merciful today. Instead of using his Native name, he said, 'You can call me Zeus. You won't be able to even pronounce my full name.'

'Zeus?' Haytham repeated the name incredulously, uncertain whether it was a joke or not.

'Zeus,' Alex repeated with all the seriousness he could muster.

'Alright, Zeus, it is then.' The man looked between surprise and relief.

Ziio directed them back to the matter at hand. 'Now tell us why it is you're here.'

The British pulled out a circular necklace or amulet of sort and showed to them. While Kaniehtí:io took the item from the man's fingers and demanded where he got it. Alex studied the serpent that was biting its own tail on the amulet, searching through the Native hunter's memories that shown him a painted cavern where a wall that was most certainly not made out of stone laid with pictograph images all over it. The wall told the story of a goddess' journey. The virus had gotten more suspicious of the reason why the British helped them, from what he noticed in his victim's memories, the wall was most certainly manmade, but the pictogram on it was unknown to him or to his collective knowledge, they were neither in cuneiform, hieroglyphic or prehistoric. Alex decided that before he left America, he would go and study this wall thoroughly.

Alex was so deep in his thought that he failed to notice Ziio telling the man to head for the hill that overlooked Concord until she was leaving with the amulet in hand. The virus shook his head tiredly as he thought humourlessly. _Well, at least we'll be in a warm and smelly tavern. And drunken Redcoats._

It was when the sky blackened completely that they reached the hill that gave a clear view Concord. Ziio explained to European companion, 'That town hosts soldiers who seek to drive my people from these lands. They're led by a man known as the Bulldog.'

'Edward Braddock...'

Ziio immediately grew hostile as she questioned, 'You know him?'

'He is no friend of mine,' the British answered with a hint of sadness in his voice.

'So a friend of yours a long time ago. I take it,' Alex said, observing the quiet town below them.

Kaniehtí:io ignored his comment as she continued explaining the situation to Haytham. 'Every day more of my people are lost to men like him.'

'Then I suggest we put a stop to it. Together.' Alex glanced at the man who was still untrustworthy in his eyes, but the situation of Ziio and her people was as she had told him, dire and hopeless. The worse was that he knew that this coming war would drive her people further from their land and let them to an extinction of culture and identity.

'What do you propose?' asked Ziio.

'That we kill Edward Braddock,' Haytham answered as if it was the most obvious thing to do.

Though the Native woman was satisfied with the answer, Alex was not impressed. From his memory banks, he recalled correctly Braddock was ambushed when his troops crossed the Monogahela River on 9th July 1755, meeting an Indian and French force from Fort Duquesne and died four days later from a wound he suffered during the battle. This man claimed they would kill the general as if all they needed to do was stabbed the man in back like an assassin.

Alex sighed again, knowing that he had to wait few more months before he, Kaniehtí:io and the other clans would gather for the fight in Monogahela River. He was pulled out of his thought by the sound of leaves rustling and saw Ziio coming out of the leaves wagon. The British then made his jump without hesitation, leaving Alex alone on top of the hill, glaring at the wagon from below. To him, it was no different from a trampoline that had its middle cut and was just waiting for him to jump towards the pain of a broken back. Alex saw the look of calm impatient Ziio gave him and he took his jump, landing in the leaves and causing the wagon to break under his weight.

Mercer groaned, frustrated and angry at Ziio who dared giggle at him. He got out of the wagon dusting dry leaves off of him as he glared at woman who stifled her laughter as he headed towards the tavern where they would find some loose tongues that would give them the information he already knew. On his way, he turned to inform Haytham, who was the only who did not laugh at his predicament, 'I don't trust you.'

'I know,' Haytham replied.

'Yet you remain,' Ziio stated as they crossed the graveyard.

'That I might prove you wrong,' the British answered.

'It won't happen,' said Alex with all the confidence and certainty of the world.

'So you say.'

'So we know.'

Alex felt like he was the third wheel in this banter. When they reached the door of the Wright Tavern, Haytham held them back and said. 'Wait here. A Mohawk man and woman are likely to raise suspicions – if not muskets.'

The Blacklight virus rolled his eyes at the useless and pathetic excuse of a concern while Kaniehtí:io, with a tinge of annoyance, told Haytham, 'This is hardly the first either of us have been amongst your people. I and he can handle ourselves.'

The Mohawk pushed the British aside as she entered the building while Haytham muttered under his breath, 'I hope so.'

'We know so,' Alex added sing-song-like as he entered the building with Haytham left in the cold.

* * *

It was official. Haytham could not keep up with the Mohawk man. His emotions and attitude were like the mountains, with ups and downs. One minute, he was hostile enough to act like any Assassin he had ever met and the next, he acted like they were good friends teasing each other. The Templar got rid of this uneasiness he felt as he focused in getting into a corner where he could eavesdrop on the Redcoats and learned of Braddock's whereabouts. And this time, ended him for good.

From what he had gathered from the drunken soldiers, Braddock was going to head south to deal with the French, but he was currently in an advanced camp, doing some planning. He already knew where the camp was located, so it was no longer necessary for them to stay in this place any longer. Haytham discreetly gestured to his Mohawk companions to leave. Well only Ziio came, Zeus was sitting at the counter taking his drink

When he was about to grab the handle, someone shouted, 'Oi, where you goin', cully?'

Haytham calmly turned to look at the sad excuse for a human being and asked innocently, 'Me?'

'No. The other cock robin,' the soldier taunted.

Haytham could feel the stare of his companion burning into his side, he looked between the door and the gathered soldiers as he started with a small smile, 'Well, I uh... I WAS leaving.'

'Oh? And now?' the ugly soldier challenged. Haytham noticed the male Mohawk was setting down his drink with his shoulders tensed and readied for a fight.

'Well now... I'm going to feed you your teeth,' Haytham answered calmly as he got into his fighting stance.

Ziio, who was next him, edged away from the man as she wondered why he first thought she and Zeus would be the problem when they entered Wright. Before anyone made their first move, the soldier who had insulted Haytham got his head crushed by a drink filled mug and crashed into the wooden table next to him, breaking the furniture in the process. All the British in the room looked in the direction where the mug came from to see Zeus standing up from his seat and cracking his knuckles as he announced, 'Seeing that we are already in trouble. Mind if I join in, gentlemen?'

'Be my guest,' Haytham replied with a shrug.

Immediately, the soldiers charged towards them with all guests cheering and shouting in the background. Haytham grabbed one by the neck and threw him to table breaking both wood and man as he began beating the soldier who tried to grab him from behind. Zeus remained on his spot, dodging each and every punch the soldiers threw at him and delivered one powerful blow to the four Redcoats who dared to attack him. One of the soldiers got lucky and nicked his right cheek which Haytham countered with a strong kick in the groin, making the man doubled over, and finished him with another strike on the back. He finished the last soldier standing by throwing him into the wall before he took his rest at the counter, next to Zeus, and glared at the downed soldiers.

Zeus pulled a bottle out from behind the counter and handed to him, whom Haytham answered, 'No, I am not thirsty.'

'It's not for drinking,' said Zeus, drawing Haytham's attention to him instead of the mongrels on the floor. The Mohawk pointed at his cheek. 'It's for the cut.'

The man shoved the bottle into his hand while the British insisted that the injury was nothing. Ziio came with a towel and took the bottle from his lax hand, pouring some alcohol over it before gently pressing it over the wounded face of the Templar, softly saying. 'This should stop the bleeding.'

The Templar stared at the two Mohawks in surprise. Their hostility towards him when they met was gone, replaced by care and worry. Those were feelings he had rarely felt from others, the only source of such feeling only came from his sister, not some strangers. After the bleeding stopped, Ziio removed the cloth just as he cleared his throat slightly and thanked them, 'That wasn't necessary. But thank you.'

The thanks seemed to snap Ziio back to business, while Zeus poured a drink from the used bottle, she stared at him and her companion and said, 'We should move one. Meet me at Braddock's camp when you two are ready.'

'Will do. _Ista_.' Zeus added the last part as an afterthought, which he earned a glare from the woman before she left them with the mess.

'Ista?' Haytham repeated curiously.

'It means mother,' Zeus explained with an amused smirk. 'Ziio hates me for calling her that when she hasn't had any children yet.'

The smirk was contagious enough to make Haytham smile. When the Mohawk poured a glass for him, Haytham accepted it and both of them knocked their mug against the other, a sign of comradeship between two unlikely people.

* * *

_After obtaining a plan of Braddock's _expedition_, Ziio and Zeus and I have parted ways, but she promised that when the time comes, their tribes would come and help them. After some times alone in my room, I begin to wonder who Zeus truly was, he is a Mohawk yes, but when I talk to him, he acted like someone who had been living in towns before, as if he had expected the fight to happen before they even entered the tavern. When we met this afternoon, he has treated my existence with that of a prey, but after knowing that our common goal of eliminating Braddock, Zeus and Ziio treated me like a brother in arms. It was strange, when Ziio helped clean my bloodied cheek, it feels like Jenny taking care of me. Yet, when it is Zeus, the feeling in me is foreign to me. It is neither something I have felt when I have fought with Braddock in their early years, nor is it a feeling of a family. This piece of unknown in my heart unnerved me. I am starting to really worry if this shard of mystery in me would stay hidden or become the source that would compromise the Order..._

* * *

**I hope eveyone enjoys the new chapter and please review. - Yuna Blaze**


	4. 03 - Last Fight, Goodbyes, and Departure

**Disclaimer - Assassin's Creed and Prototype all belong to their rightful owners. This story is beta by Trondason.**

* * *

Last Fight, Goodbyes, and Departure

Alex heard Haytham and his men approaching long before they even came to view. With them complaining about the weathers and the upcoming battle, it would take a huge miracle for no one to notice.

Ziio came into the clearing first followed closely by Haytham who Alex greeted with a nod. The British, seeing the three representatives of the other tribes, commented, 'I see you've been busy.'

'All these men are from many different tribes – united in their desire to see Braddock sent away. The Abenaki. The Lenape. The Shawnee,' Ziio presented those gathered here.

'And the two you? Who do you two stand for?' Haytham asked.

'Myself.' That was the Native woman's answer.

'No one.' That was his answer.

Haytham looked between them, probably wondering why their answer was so different from one another, but he knew they had prepared for Braddock's arrival, so he asked, 'What would you have me do?'

'We will help the others to prepare,' Kaniehtí:io answered before she turned to command the rest of the group. 'Follow.'

Alex went ahead and left Ziio and Haytham in their position, quietly following Edward Braddock and, unless History was wrong, George Washington. Braddock was either stupid or his ego was as big as America was, because he began telling his guide of his plan. 'Just savouring the moment. No doubt many wonder why it is we've pushed so far west. These are wild lands, as yet untamed and unsettled. But it shall not always be so.

'In time our holdings will no longer suffice. And that day is closer than you think. We must ensure out people have ample room to grow and further prosper. Which means we need more land.' Alex was really starting to hate Braddock's attitude, but that might also be his Mohawk victim's thought. 'The French understand this – and endeavour to prevent such growth. They skirt around out territory – erecting forts and forging alliances – awaiting the day they might strangle us with the noose they've built. This must not come to pass! We must sever the cord and send them back! This is why we ride. To offer them one last chance: The French will leave or they will die!'

Alex thought that it was ironic that, in a few moments, Braddock would receive the very same threat he had just announced. The virus paused in his observation and looked back, wondering why they hadn't started attacking yet, because he knew the British general would die in this battle. The general ordered his troops to stop as two scouts came to deliver some news. It was then that he noticed Haytham sneaking down the path to where some of the soldiers were resting. He killed one of them that had a higher rank uniform and hid behind thick bushes. Alex understood why the man did that and mentally applauded the man for his assassination strategy.

Haytham quickly came out, dressed in Redcoat uniform, taking one of the horses beside the small camp, and headed to the front of the army. Alex called out to Ziio and one Kanien'kehá:ka warrior and told them to follow him. While Alex trusted Haytham and his skills, he rather not let the man go in a monster's den alone. If the British failed to complete the task, he or his allies would take the finishing blow.

Alex and his companion watched as Haytham held Braddock at gun point, readied to end the trash's life when one of the soldiers shouted warnings, everyone turned to see a French soldier on a horse coming through the woods, running towards the two on horseback with his gun prepared to fire at Haytham. _ Shit_. Alex thought as he was about to jump into the fray when someone shot the French, Alex looked up to see a Redcoat nodding respectively to Haytham. The small distraction allowed Braddock to make his escape.

'_You two stay and kill the soldiers. I'll finish the man myself_,' Ziio ordered them as she began running after the general.

'_Wait_!' Alex shouted, trying to grab hold of her, but doing so gave the soldiers his position. He snarled angrily at the soldier who had shot him, readying his tomahawk, he taunted the Redcoats gathered around him, 'Come and get me, you pieces of trash!'

* * *

Haytham dodged enemies and allies, and shot gunpowder barrels in his way as he continued his chase on Edward, until one of the trees fell in front of Braddock, causing him to tumble to the ground along with his surprised horse.

'I never took you for a coward, Edward,' Haytham commented as he pointed his pistol at his old friend. Braddock was once a man whom he trusted with his life, but the current general no longer deserved any of his mercy or pity.

'Come on then,' Edward taunted, which Haytham would have comply if someone hadn't shot his horse from behind.

The Templar groaned as he hit the ground. When he tried to get up, he only found his leg caught under the downed animal. Braddock's lackey reloaded his musket and went beside his master.

'Such arrogance. I always knew it would be the end of you,' sneered Braddock as he approached him. He looked back at the gun and focused on him with a maddened look. 'IS the end of you.'

Haytham looked at two Redcoats defiantly, but he knew his chances were up and it would take a miracle to get out of this dire position. The miracle took the form of Ziio who came out from behind a tree and threw the subordinate off of his horse, holding the struggling man down with her knife. She looked up Braddock as she said warningly, 'Don't.'

The Templar took his chance to pull his leg from beneath the horse's corpse and Braddock took his to run. Ziio, while keeping her opponent busy with punches, shouted at him, 'Hurry! Before he gets away!'

Haytham hesitated, not sure if she could handle a man on her own, but after she insisted, he chased the general once more. He really couldn't believe that this man, who was screaming how he did not deserve to die, was the same person who had fought courageously in many battles.

'You're hypocrite, Haytham,' Braddock shouted over his shoulder as the distance between grew smaller.

'I'm sorry, Edward, but you've forced my hand,' Haytham replied.

Suddenly, out of the wood, a tomahawk came flying out and imbedded at the general's knee. Edward screamed in pain as he fell into the knee-deep water, hands going over his injured leg, while Haytham looked at where the weapon came from to see an angry Zeus standing next to the forest, clothing all bloody and his eyes had a murderous aura in them as he yelled, 'Finish him already!'

The Templar complied and sank his hidden blade into his friend's chest. Edward gasped and moaned painfully as he asked, 'Why, Haytham?'

Haytham stood up as he looked everywhere but his dying friend as he explained, 'Your death opens a door. It's nothing personal.' A contemplative pause before he turned his gaze back on Edward. 'Well, maybe it is a LITTLE personal. You've been a pain in my arse after all.'

'But we are brothers in arms...' Edward gasped out.

'Once, perhaps,' Haytham answered. He had warned him before that all debts were gone between them and that the next time they met, it would be the last. 'No longer. Do you think I've forgotten what you did? All those innocents slaughtered, And for what?' It does not engender peace to cut your way to resolution.'

Haytham bended over to place his hand over Braddock's neck as Edward objected, 'Wrong! Were that we applied the award more liberally and more often, the world be a better place than it is today.'

'In this instance, I concur,' Haytham agreed and sank his hidden blade into the man's side, not removing it until Braddock drew his last and final breath. The Templar got up and went to remove the ring that held the Order's insignia. 'Farewell, Edward.'

Haytham also removed the tomahawk and returned it to its rightful owner who was waiting for him to finish his personal business. 'Thanks you for your help.'

The British looked over his Mohawk friend and asked, 'Are you alright?'

Zeus laughed at his concern as he clapped his back and answered joyously, 'I am alright Haytham. It will take more than a musket to kill me.'

Haytham smirked slightly at the boastful tone of the Native. It had been sometimes now since he last trusted someone. He had started doubting Birch's words and second-guessing everything he said. Zeus was the first person in the New World and in the last few years that had his trust. Perhaps the source of this trust came from the fact that the man was always serious and said what was on his mind.

Haytham decided that, even if Zeus' real name was a pain in the neck, he would remember it. 'So what's your real name then, Zeus?'

'Do you really want to embarrass yourself so much?' Zeus questioned teasingly, which Haytham complied with a nod. 'It's Ratonhnhaké:ton.'

Haytham stuttered the name at his first try and was groaning inside at all these impossible to pronounce names the Mohawks had. His displeasure must have appeared on his face as the Mohawk hunter laughed harder than before and said, 'You don't need to try saying that name. You can just called me Alex.'

'Alex?' Haytham repeated the common name.

Zeus–Alex–shrugged as he explained, 'Zeus is just a name some people gave me. Alex is the one I identify myself with besides Ratonhnhaké:ton.'

'I see,' said Haytham. At the very least this name was better than the other two.

'Beside that is not important. Don't you have to meet up with Ziio?' Alex reminded him. 'She's back at where we were, waiting for you.'

'Thank you, my friend,' said Haytham, giving the man a squeeze on the shoulder, a sign of friendship, as he started heading back to Ziio.

'Friend, huh?' He heard his Mohawk friend whispered.

* * *

Alex slowly walked towards the general direction where the Kanien'kehá:ka's sacred cave was located, he expected that Ziio would be there with Haytham. He had just retrieved his entire saving of _borrowed_ money from under a tree he had buried near the village.

During the long walk, Alex pondered on Haytham's word. The British said that Braddock's death would open a door, he wondered if it was literal or not, or was he referring the wall with the pictorgraph of unknown origin, but more importantly the rounded depression on the wall seemed to fit something a round circular object. Haytham's amulet would not fit into the wall if that was the keyhole. Did Haytham have something else in his possession that could open the door? Was that the reason why Haytham approached them and saved Ziio's people?

Alex stopped when he realized that his thoughts were all revolving around the elusive British gentleman. The only times when someone's name was constantly in his mind was when he cared about someone or when they were his obssession. Only two people were ever part of that list: Dana, who was his only family and was still in coma last he had seen of her, and Karen, for a short while, before he had consumed her. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, much like what he had seen in the memories from one of his victims. The breathing exercise helped calm him and lessened his thoughts over Haytham, and it also made him more focused on his task.

When he reached the sacred cave, it was already night. Surpisingly to him, he saw Ziio and Haytham were about to leave the cave, because he half expected that they had already left. Then his sense of smell caught a faint scent drifting from the cave, he sniffed the air again before the many souls in his mind identified the smell as sex, which made Alex gagged like a child who saw his parents kissing each other. The sound he made attracted his friends' attention.

Both acted like two children caught stealing a cookie jar and stuttered excuses before they regained their bearings, but there was still a pale redness on their cheeks. Alex smirked deviously as he asked, 'Did you guys have fun?'

Ziio glared at him for the inappropriate question and Haytham pretended to be focused on their surroundings, but neither answered the question. It was not like Alex expected that they would and he not interested in the answer either. It was just a teasing question. Maybe just a way to lighten the situation before his announcement.

'_What are you doing here?_' Ziio hissed out in Kanien'kehá:ka.

Alex stole a glance at Haytham who was still ignoring him, probably his way to keep him from turning the awkward question towards him. The virus then announced his plan, '_I will be leaving soon._'

Ziio looked at him in surprise before she asked, '_Why? Where?_'

Alex wanted to tell her that soon the Mohawk Valley she knew wouldn't exist anymore and that the American Revolution would begin in twenty years. The virus couldn't announced any of those reasons, Ziio wouldn't believe him. So he settled with, '_I no longer have a reason to stay anymore, Ziio. I need to leave. I'll be going to the other side of the ocean._'

Ziio remained emotionless at his answer, but she closed the gap between them and hugged him, surprising both Alex and Haytham. Alex was unused to someone, other than his sister hugging, so he was a bit at lost at what to do and kept his hands away from the Kanien'kehá:ka woman as she whispered, '_I will miss you brother._'

When she removed herself from him, he replied, '_And I will too, sister._'

Alex turned to look at Haytham, who was still confused by what had happened, and said to him warningly, 'Take good care of Ziio, Haytham. If you hurt her, or she loses even one hair, I will _find_ you and _hunt_ you down no matter where you hide. Is that clear?'

Haytham was shocked for a moment before he asked, 'You're leaving?'

'Yes, I am,' Alex replied coolly. 'You haven't asnwered me. Is my threat clear to you?'

'Yes,' Haytham answered calmly, though his eyes told Alex he was disappointed of something. Of what, he wasn't certain. The British pulled something out of his pocket, staring at it hesitantly for a moment before he took his hand and placed it in his opened palm. Alex realized it was the same ring that was taken from Braddock and looked at Haytham quesitonably. 'If you ever find yourself in England, this ring will provide you some safety and shelter. If someone ever asked, tell them that it's gift from Haytham Kenway,'

'Thank you, I guess,' said Alex, unsure of the meaning of Haytham's word and the purpose of this ring, though he doubted that he would ever need to use the ring. His eyes inspected the small accessory in the palm of his hand, studying the white material before focusing on the red cross pattée. In his mind, he was wondering if it was a family heirloom or something. Maybe Haytham and Braddock knew each other, because their ancestors were both Templars.

'Have a safe journey, my friend,' said Haytham as he grasped his shoulder.

Alex returned the gesture and bidded both of them goodbye before he left for Boston, where he would take of one of the dreaded ships into the sea. He knew he could just immigrate to the southern land of the New World, but Europe was a much safer option and would keep him from being involved in the coming war.

* * *

_First I am disappointed by the precusor's site and then of Alex's leave. I really don't know what the man is thinking, a Mohawk going to Europe. He will have a cultural disater when he arrives there, but the Templar ring should get him some help. I wish he will heed my words and head for England when he reaches land instead of some place else. What I wish the most is that none of the Assassins will find him. While I don't doubt Alex's ability to fight, I don't think he is above from being manipulated into joining the Brotherhood._

_I hope this will not be the last time I will see him. No. I _am_ certain we _will_ see each other again. I will look forward to that day just as my Ziio is. Our friend will return to us. When he does, he will see the new world I will create with the Templar Order's power, where his people is safe and happy just as Ziio is._


	5. 04 - Hello Great Britain and Connections

**Disclaimer - Assassin's Creed and Prototype all belong to their rightful owners. This story is beta by Trondason.**

* * *

Hello Great Britain and Connections

Alex would have start kissing the ground when he finally got off the ship he had taken at Boston, but he was not desperate enough to disgrace himself in this way. The virus was only glad that he survived the constant storm the ocean kept throwing at the ship he was on and made it to London in one piece. He ran his fingers through his short dark brown hair as he looked around the loud port before he covered them with a tricorn hat. His current clothes were that of a Colonist instead of his Native ones. He kept Ratonhnhaké:ton's form instead of taking another one, because Ziio and Haytham might try to track him down or get some news from him.

He threw his bag that held his tomahawk and his money over his shoulder as he went around the crowd, listening to the busy people talking about everything and nothing before he headed towards the general direction where the _Fox's Den_ tavern was.

It was a short walk, because the tavern was the closest to the port and its main business focused on sailors, merchants and visitors from other countries. When he entered the tavern, it was full of people of different nationalities, but they were mostly sailors, he went to the counter to order a drink and set his luggage at his feet. The ale was soon placed in front of him and he sipped it slowly like a well-educated gentleman.

'Hey, did you hear?' someone said in a hush-hush tone. Alex placed the rim of the mug over his lips as his eyes searched for the speaker and found the person sitting in the far corner of the counter. 'Another merchant is found dead last night, cut on the throat like all others.'

The man next to the speaker replied, 'Yes, I am arranging my business to move to the New World, I don't think it is safe to do business here anymore. The man was my neighbour and I didn't hear anything from his house, I only found out what had happened on the news.'

This piqued Alex's interest as he listened on. 'You may be right in moving away, just seeing the killer's poster gives me the creeps.'

Alex finished his drink as he pulled out a few golden coins, throwing them to the bartender who caught it and told him to prepare a room for him. The bartender happily thanked him as he left the tavern. _Now where do I find one of those posters?_

Just as he finished his mental thought he spotted a dog-eared poster slapped on a wall on which heavy black letters that screamed "MOST WANTED" and underneath the huge words were a vague drawing of the wanted man. The reason why it was vague was because the man's face was hidden under the hood he wore, hiding the top halves of his face, showing only the mouth and chin. The details on the bottom were no help either, other than the man is white, extremely dangerous and whoever captured the man would received 10,000 pounds.

While Alex had money, it did not mean his money pouch was bottomless, so it was best for him to find some kind of income. His current income would be the bounty of this killer. He reached out and pulled the poster off of the wall, stuffing it into his bag as he continued with his exploration over the city.

* * *

After having memorized half of the layout of the city, Alex had returned to tavern to rest until it was nightfall, from the gossips and rumours he had heard, the killer targeted more than just merchants, there were soldiers, politicians, and a professor. The Blacklight virus couldn't find what made all these people a target for the killer, unless the killer was like what he was back at Manhattan, a dangerous being with amnesia who hunted those responsible to his current state. Alex laughed at the idea. Gentek hadn't even been established yet and Ohio, Hope, hadn't happened, so the possibility of having another Runner out there was zero to none.

Alex decided a late night stroll with a pouch full of heavy gold and his tomahawk at his side to the shadier part of town was in order, because that's where dark information with a price amassed other than a market area. It was a risk to keep his Native skin and wear his Indian clothes, because he might just get some _savages_ haters instead of thugs, but from the minds of soldiers and civilians who had lived in a poor district before, thugs would be the first to come.

It did not take long for a gang of thugs to surround him, leering at him like madmen. Alex stopped and calmly studied each of the five men that had him surrounded. The virus put on his best fake bravery as he challenged them, 'What are you idiots waiting for?'

He held up his pouch of gold for them to see and shook it a little for them to hear the clinging of gold hitting gold as he taunted them further, 'Isn't gold what you greedy bastards want?'

One of the men charged towards, but Alex easily sidestepped away from the man's track and weakly kneed him in the stomach before the thief fell to the ground, groaning in pain and holding his bruising middle. Alex looked at the rest of the group and asked tauntingly, 'Next?'

Two men, with knife at ready, ran up to meet the challenge, the Blacklight virus dodged his first attacker's strike, grabbed him by the collar and threw him back at his charging partner. The rest of the group was hesitating to attack him outright, one had already run, but he would deal with that one later. He quickly dispatched the rest with quick and precise hits.

'Time for some housecleaning,' Alex muttered as his arms became tendrils and grabbed his first attacker, consuming him and the rest of the thieves who barely had the chance to scream before they became part of his biomass. His hands reached up to clutch his throbbing head and his mouth opened to let out a silent scream as the memories surged through his mind and shelved among the other millions of memories. The memories all revolved around heists they had done together with a man named Gabriel and the failed ones caused by someone named Robert.

The virus quickly caught up to the escaped thief with a powerful jump and landed in front of the cowering man. In a blink of an eye, his hand was around the coward's throat and the man was lifted from the ground. The man stared him in fear, gasping for air and clawing his arm, hoping to get his attacker to loosen his hold on him.

Alex brought to the man's face close to his as he whispered threateningly, 'You have exactly one chance to get out of this without ended being dead like your friends. Bring me to your leader, or boss, or whatever you thieves call your leader. You either do this or you won't ever see tomorrow's daylight.'

The man immediately nodded at his request, Alex released him and said, 'Good.'

The thief coughed a few more times before he started limping towards one of the crappy alley, moving around, jumping across trashes and climbing up to the rooftops. Alex almost lost his patience, thinking the man was just trying to lose him in his parkour tricks.

The man suddenly announced, 'We are here.'

Alex looked at the crappy and half falling house as he turned his threatening gaze on the man who was doing a very good job at being Smeagol in the Lord of the Rings trilogy as he gestured towards the house and fearfully explained, 'Most of the soldiers don't come into the poor district, this is Gabriel's base of operations.'

'Gabriel, huh?' Alex repeated the name as he pushed the coward towards the door.

Not caring what the coward's name was, Alex decided to call him Smeagol. The thief entered the house first and called, 'Gabriel? There is someone here to see you.'

Smeagol opened the door wider, enough for Alex to see who this Gabriel was. Alex's first thought when he spotted the man was that he looked like an 18th century version of Gambit of the X-Men comic books. The man was in his early thirties, he had shoulder-length brown shaggy hair, faint stubble on his chin. He had a dark green waistcoat covering his white linen shirt, armguards covering his arms, fingerless gloves on his hands. Unlike most of the 18th century people, Gabriel did not wear breaches and stockings, instead he wore leather pants and knee-high riding boots. Alex studied the man and the room, looking for any kind weapon the man could get his hands on. On the left far side, there is a wall display of different rapier swords and beneath it was an opened display case of short knives. On the right, there were armours of different weight from light to heavy. The closest weapon Gabriel could grab were the throw knives sheathed on the coat hanger stand next to the hanged cloak.

Gabriel had his legs crossed and placed on the desk, his arms placed behind his head and had his chair tilted slightly. The leader of the thieves asked lazily, 'Who is it?'

'Um, uh,' Smeagol sounded hesitantly as he looked back and forth between Alex and Gabriel.

'My name is Zeus,' Alex began as he approached the table. 'A Native Indian from the New World and I am here to make business with you Mister Gabriel.'

The thief cracked opened one eye to study him before he closed them again and asked, 'Why would I want to do business with a savage? Or do you prefer Zeus, your lordship?'

Alex, unaffected by the man's sharp words, threw his pouch on the table, where some of its content got spilled, gleaming slightly under the candle's light. Gabriel yawned as he removed his foot from the table, letting his chair slammed loudly on the wooden floor, leaning in, and asked suspiciously, 'What does a savage come to me for?'

'I want information,' Alex started all business-like. 'I am after the bounty of the famed killer who has his posters shown all across the city.'

At that Gabriel leaned back, arms crossed in front of his chest, fingertips against fingertips, and asked suavely, 'What do I gain in this _partnership_?'

'A share of the bounty,' Alex answered, putting his hands on the edge of the table. 'You will provide me with information and weapons. I will do the hunting and collecting the bounty that we will share. This business will continue until the world doesn't have any bounty left.'

Both men knew that there would always be rich men willing to give a huge reward to whoever killed their targets or enemies. Gabriel wore a thoughtful look for a moment before he explained, 'Sadly for you, my good sir. Information and weapons I cannot provide. Not because of financial problems. You see, there is someone else in London, beyond this poor district, a thief named Robert Dupuis controls every coming and going streams of information. Dupuis has an ally who eliminates and steals every piece of information my men gather. As days passed, I lose more and more men who went to help Dupuis.'

'Here's what I propose to you,' Gabriel began with a content look. 'I have two tasks for you to complete. First, you must go and find Madame Giry. She lives three blocks northeast from my house. She is the one who looks after every street prostitute and beggar in the city, tell her that Gabriel is in business once more and show her your pouch of gold. I will collect my share later. After you receive her aid, we will show the information.'

Gabriel put the gold back into the pouch and slid it back to Alex as he continued, 'The second task is to bring me Robert's head. If you can't grab his head then take the triangular shaped pendant to me as a proof that you have accomplished your task. With him out of the picture, I and Giry will control the flows of information once more and whatever is ours will be yours, given with a reasonable price of course. Then the weapons will be yours and the man you look for will be revealed.'

Alex nodded as he replaced his pouch at his side. Just as he had his hand over the doorknob, Gabriel called out to him and said, 'You better get some better clothes, my friend. The city does not welcome your kind anymore than they will welcome us. I suggest you use some of your gold to get clothes before you meet up with Giry.'

Alex nodded before he left for the tavern.

* * *

Next morning, dressed in some modest clothes and with a half-filled pouch of gold, Alex headed towards the block where Madame Giry was. When he reached the location, he was swarmed by a group of beggars, but his cold and warning gaze kept them from approaching. Prostitutes and beggars parted ways for him and he walked until he reached the center of the block where an old woman in a tattered dress stood and some girls were handing out food and cloak to the people. The woman had her grey hair tied into a bun and her skin was as gnarl as an old tree's bark.

Alex approached the woman and asked, 'Are you Madame Giry?'

The old woman looked at him sharply, piercing blue eyes on his face, and coldly asked, 'Did the governor decide that we can't even stay in this district anymore?'

Alex arched an eyebrow at the elder woman's words and answered, 'No ma'am. I am not one of the governor's men. Gabriel had told to tell you that he is in business once more. And offer you this.'

Madame Giry immediately took the pouch from his hand and pulled one of the golden coin out, studying it in different position and biting it with her slightly yellowed teeth before she nodded satisfyingly and asked, 'Gabriel didn't have any business for the passed few months, how did he come in possession of this gold?'

'I am the one who has given it to him, he told me to bring it to you,' Alex replied calmly.

Giry hummed lightly as she studied him from head to toe and turned around him, studying him like he was some kind of exotic animal on display. Alex let her continued with her observation, because he needed the information.

'Gabriel and I used to be the best source of information in the city, but a few years ago, Robert Dupuis arrived and everything that was ours became his,' Madame Giry recounted as she moved to sit on the stack of boxes to rest. 'I lost my house while Gabriel lost his family. No one is coming to us for information anymore, so why do you come to us instead of Dupuis, young man?'

'Let's just say a little rat has told about Gabriel and I have the money to spend on some information concerning a killer on the loose,' Alex explained as he stood next to the resting old woman.

'Ah, the Assassin,' Giry moaned out. 'That's what Dupuis has called the man. The man hunts down men of power and of riches. Everything either falls into his and Dupuis hands or to the governor.'

The old woman stared at the beggars and prostitutes who had gathered here before she turned her gaze on him and said, 'If you can remove Dupuis and the Assassin. I will help in any way I can, even if the cost is this old life of mine.'

While Alex did not care for what Gabriel and Giry's sad story or their situation, the virus couldn't help the growing the desire to help these poor men and women. His eyes landed on a woman who had her hair cut, she had probably sold it to get some money to feed the child beside her. The prostitute looked almost like Dana with her short hair. If it was Dana, he wouldn't just leave her on the street and let strange men take advantage of her body.

He refocused on the old lady and said, 'I will kill Dupuis and the Assassin. You have my words, Madame Giry.'

The lady gently smiled as she got off of the boxes and announced, 'Well then, we have works to do.'

She gestured to him to follow as the people gave them space to move and they only stopped when they reach the end of the alley. She pointed upwards where behind the two buildings he could see a distant mansion and she said, 'That's the Dupuis Manor. Dupuis spent his entire day in his office, storing information and writing records. At night, he will sometimes leave his mansion to go the tavern La Volpe. None of my boys and girls ever got anymore information on why he goes there. Other than those few times, he will remain within his fortress.'

'Thank you, Madame Giry,' Alex thanked the elder lady with a nod. 'You will soon receive good news from me.'

Alex already headed towards the mansion, leaving the old woman behind who whispered wistfully, 'I hope so, son. I hope so.'

* * *

Alex had been observing and memorizing the patterns and timetable of each patrol the guards made. It was way passed noon that he made his move. He easily slipped into the mansion without being seen by any of the guards. It was when he was inside that things got a bit problematic, because he did not have a map that could tell him which corridor to take to reach Dupuis' office, though he expected the office of the information broker to be located somewhere in the second floor.

He took a few turns and back before he found the stairs and a coming squad of guards, cursing in Native, Alex quickly jumped and landed still on the creaking beam that shook under his weight. He hoped that the wood wouldn't break until the guards were out of sight.

When guards left without noticing his presence, Alex let out a relieved sigh as he landed the carpet ground, muffling the cracking noise slightly. The virus reached the second floor without incident and began searching room by room. Alex smirked in victory when he found Dupuis' office with said man's back facing him.

Alex closed the door quietly. Dupuis seemed to notice someone was in the room, but he mistook him for the Assassin and said, 'Ah my friend, you come earlier than I thought, but the information you want are on my desk.'

The Blacklight virus went to the desk and spotted the stack of information the information broker mentioned. He flipped through the pages that held information on a man named Reginald Birch, personal information and business, along with a map of the Chateau the man lived in. While going over them, Alex noticed the familiar symbol of a red cross pattée. As he looked back at the picture of Birch, he noticed the familiar ring on the man's ring finger. The virus was certain that the ring in the picture was the same one Haytham had handed him.

Before Alex wondered what the meaning of the ring, Dupuis already finished reading the book he held and turned to see Alex, a stranger, looking through his documents. The information broker yelled, 'WHO ARE YOU?!'

Alex looked up in the time to dodge the sword coming towards him, the documents on Reginald Birch was scattered into the air as Dupuis lunged fowards with his sword, Alex parried it with his tomahawk and kicked the man in the stomach, sending the man flying over the balcony and screaming to his death.

Alex frowned as he grabbed the paper that had Birch's picture, the biography and the map of Birch's chateau before he jumped over the balcony and landed heavily beside Dupuis' corpse. He really should have consumed the man when he had his chance, because the man's mind was a gold mine of information, but now it was impossible with the brain splattered all over the ground. Alex removed the man's coat before he decapited the corpse covering it with the clothing. As an afterthought, Alex took the pendant Gabriel spoke of and tied it to his tomahawk.

When he got up, a shriek sounded behind him. Alex glanced over his shoulder to see a maid pointing at him and five guards behind. _Time to go!_

Alex dodged the first bullet that was fired at him, he growled angrily before he dashed towards his attacker, slamming his tomahawk into the junction between neck and shoulder, killing the man instantly as blood covered his face. The guards were shocked at the quick attack which gave an opening to Alex to eliminate them all. The virus slashed the throat of the one closest to him and imbedded his weapon into leader's vertebral column. Taking the sword from the downed leader, Alex swiped the blade underneath a guard before impaling the sword straight through his heart. When he turned to the last man standing, the guard was shaking as he muttered prayers and backed away from him, Alex smirked viciously as he threw the sword towards the screaming man. The bladed weapon imbedded into the man's skull as the horrid sound died down. The Blacklight virus went to retrieve his tomahawk from the corpse before he looked at the maid who was now knelt on the ground, frozen on her spot and her skin pale as his eyes focused on her. Alex, inwardly grinning like a Cheshire Cat, brought his index finger to his bloodied lips, a pleasant smile stretched his lips, and shushed her.

The simply act caused the woman to faint and Alex chuckled at the extreme reaction. He climbed over the wall and sprinted away before every guard within Dupuis Manor was notified of their employer's death and the appearance of Dupuis' killer. Alex safely reached another district, allowing him to carefreely walked towards Gabriel's house.

Alex's path was surprisingly empty and silent, but he guessed after what had happened last night, Smeagol must have warned everyone to keep away from his path unless they wanted to end up like his bodiless friends. The virus was pouting internally, because he had kind of hoped to kill something on his way to Gabriel.

Alex slammed the door opened when he arrived at Gabriel's house and threw the severed head on the thief's desk, Gabriel didn't even flinch when Dupuis's head rolled out of the cloth. Though the thief's eyes widened as he looked up at him and asked in astonishment, 'Already?'

'I work fast,' Alex replied with a grin.

Gabriel wore a satisfied smirk as he stood up from his seat and gave him an exagerated bow as he announced, 'It will be a pleasure to do business with you, my friend. I, Giry and our men will begin our search immediately.'

'Here's something for you to begin with,' said Alex as he pulled out the rolled-up papers on Birch. 'When I first came into Dupuis' office, he mistook me for this Assassin and these are some of the documents I have taken.'

Gabriel took them and scanned over them, nodding and mumbling to himself. 'Hmm. Reginald Birch? I shall see what I can find.'

Gabriel threw Dupuis' head off of the desk and brought the documents on his slightly cleaned desk, pulling papers, quill, inkpot and a signet out.

'One more thing,' Alex announced, drawing the man's attention. He approached the man and took Haytham's ring out for the thief to study. 'I need you to look into the secret of this ring. I spotted the same ring on Birch's ring finger. I want to know if there is something special about it.'

When Gabriel reached to take from his hands, Alex caught the man's wrist tightly as he whispered warningly, 'I want the ring back.'

Gabriel nodded before Alex released his wrist. The thief brought the ring closer to his eyes for a careful examination, the man nodded and replied, 'I will see what I can find. You will be the first to receive any news of our discovery.'

'Good,' Alex muttered as he left the house. In his mind, he wondered if he truly wanted to discover the secret of the ring. He feared that the truth would be just like the one he had found of him being the one who had released the Blacklight virus in Pennslyvania Station and infected Manhattan. What if this ring brought out some terrible truth that should have stayed hidden? Alex shook his head as if the action would get rid of the hesitation. _Even if the truth isn't one I wan to know, I have to know. It is better than wondering every day and night about it._

* * *

**Pretty please for reviews.**


	6. 05 - HelloAssassinandBecominganAssassin

**Disclaimer - Assassin's Creed and Prototype belongs to their respective owner. This story is beta by Trondason.**

* * *

Hello Assassin and Becoming an Assassin

It took one month for Gabriel and Giry to have gathered all the necessary information on the Assassin and the target that the killer was after, but it was not a boring wait. There was enough trouble in London that didn't come from Gabriel's men, he fought thugs and mercenaries who thought he was a pushover, though what satisfied his bloodlust the most were a group of hooded men. It was annoying to him at first, because many of them focused hit-and-run tactics, something people never done when facing him, but when he caught the attack patterns, he had dispatched them all with one swift strike. The surprise that he shrugged off a fatal hit also helped. He had done some courier jobs and had beaten some unfaithful husbands and boyfriends when he was really bored.

Once in a while, he would go bother either Gabriel or Giry. Gabriel's habit in passing time was questionable, because entering a brothel and cared not if the prostitute in his arms was male or female was both unhealthy and asking for trouble. It took a long time for gay marriage to be approved and Gabriel was daring the city to arrest him and hang him for that. Alex hadn't been interested in any kind of physical interaction and Gabriel was bugging him because of his disinterest, he had even asked him if he preferred a male partner than a female one out of curiosity which earned him a tomahawk slammed next to him. Giry was a slightly better company than Gabriel. Why slightly? The reason was because the old lady would fuss over him, like a mother hen, over the silliest things from his health to his clothes. Still, Alex found that it was a little nice to have someone worry for him. Sometimes seeing her exasperated face was worth his day.

Alex went to Gabriel's house, where both information brokers waited him. Gabriel now fully dressed with armour, weapons and cloak, looking like a Robin Hood mixed Gambit. Madame Giry looked better than last time he had seen her, wearing a modest dress than the tattered one she wore when they had first met. Alex greeted them with a nod and asked, 'What did the two of you have find?'

'My children had been observing Reginald Birch for weeks now,' Madame Giry started, hands clasped in front of her robe. 'Once a week, he will have guests coming over. Always the same people: businessmen, mercenaries, and politicians. If I didn't know better, I'll say the man is part of a cult or a business shadier than Gabriel and mine. The Assassin, on the other hand, hadn't made an appearance in weeks, which was strange, any of my men and women would have spotted him at least once, but he had shown neither hide nor hair.'

'I have my thieves _collecting_ scraps of Dupuis' archive. From what I have collected so far, everything that concerns Reginald Birch and the Assassin is coded or parts are missing,' Gabriel reported and handed him Haytham's ring. 'As for the ring, each and every visitor of Birch has a ring like this, but we are uncertain of what the ring truly represents.'

Giry took over. 'So far, we can only be certain that the symbol is that of the Knight Templars. From what I remember of my history, the Templars were accused of idolatry and heresy and the Church has them all burned at stake. We can only guess that a small group of Templars has survived and is rendered as a cult. Birch might be leader of the cult.'

Alex was doubtful, because from what he saw in Haytham, the man was anything but religious and he didn't react like some sort of obsessed madman. In fact, the British acted more driven and determined like a soldier with a goal. There must be something more to this whole Templar business than just a simple cult. Still he needed to know where the Assassin was.

'Do the two of you have any idea where the Assassin might be?' Alex asked.

'Seeing that the target might be Reginald Birch,' said Gabriel thoughtfully. 'You should perhaps focus on tailing after the man. I believe that today, he will go to observe the progress of the new ship's construction. The location and the nearby area are both full and empty. It is the best environment to strike if I was the Assassin.'

Alex nodded in understanding as he asked, 'Gabriel, I want you to continue your search in the Templar matter and Giry, you tell your men to keep a close eye on Birch and every one of the men who visited him.'

'That will cost you,' Gabriel muttered, earning a glare from Alex, before he sighed tiredly. 'Alright, I'll look into it, but I reserve the right to say, this is a wild goose chase.'

Alex quickly said his farewells and headed to the port. It was difficult to prevent himself from bumping and being bumped into. Though he was glad that Birch was making his presence known to the entire block, it made his job easier. Alex decided to get higher view on the area and went to rooftop of one of nearby buildings, relaxing slightly as he continued with his watch around the area and Birch.

* * *

One hour of yelling, two hours of silent studying and three hours of being a brat summed up Birch's day at the port. Alex, on the hand, spent six hours lazing around like a cat on the rooftop, but there was no sign of Assassin anywhere. It was one day of complete waste of time.

Alex continued tailing after Birch until the man reached his chateau when the sun was on its slow course to descend. The virus sighed in relief, because one more word out of the man's mouth and he would consume him just to get some silence around here. Alex decided that there was still some time left before the shops closed and headed towards one of the bookshops that near were the _Fox's Den_. If he had to spend six more hours of hearing Birch's annoying voice, he would like to something to do to pass time. Alex slipped into the first bookstore he found and started browsing around the bookshelves while the owner was watching his every move like a hawk, probably thinking that he was going to steal one of the books.

Alex ignored the man's existence and focused on the book titles his index finger traced on. His hand stilled at the title _Travels into Several Remote Nations of the World. By Lemuel Gulliver, First a Surgeon, and then a Captain of several Ships_.

Memories of Dr. Mercer surfaced for the first time since he had arrived in Colonial times, the memory showed him of a child Dana asking him to read _Gulliver's Travels_ to her. Alex pulled the book out and studied the cover that was far plainer than Dana's colourful children book. Alex smiled softly at the memory of Dana smiling, the smile turned sad as the virus remembered that his sister was in coma when he left her.

Alex's hand tightened around the book at the memory of Dana's still body as he picked her up and ran to Dr. Ragland's morgue. He knew that he should be focusing in finding a way back to his sister, but he had no idea of whatsoever on _how_ he even got here to begin with. With the Revolution coming up, it would be safer to lay low for now until the war was over to look for clues. That or he could wait for around two centuries. In a way, Dana's state hadn't worsened or bettered, because the events that lead to her injuries hadn't started yet and this time, he might be able to prevent it.

Alex was snapped out of his musing when a loud and intentional cough sounded in the empty shop. The virus looked over his shoulder to stare at the shopkeeper who frowned at him as he asked, 'Are you done browsing, _sir_? I have to close my shop.'

Alex approached the counter with a cold smile as he dropped the book before the shopkeeper as he said, in an icy polite voice, 'Yes, _kind sir_. I want this book.'

Alex mentally laughed as he thought. _The Mercer smile always works._

The man quickly stuttered out the numbers, Alex dropped the necessary coins on the counter, giving the man one last smirk, before he left the shop with book in hand. The sky was already darkening when he stepped outside, but it did not bother him as the other citizens of London who all hurried to get back into the safety of their houses. The virus whistled as he moved around the streets as if he owned them.

* * *

Darkness' blanket covered the sky and stars lightened amongst the black sky just as workers began to fill the lamps with light. Alex paused in his walk to look at the starry heaven above him as he recalled the first time he had actually and truly looked at the night sky. Back in modern Manhattan, he was focused in finding the truth of who he was and the secret Gentek had hidden that he never really took notice of the simplest little things around him until everything got infected. The sky in his _own_ memory was either pitch black, blood red or sick green. It was only when he was with the Kanien'kehá:ka that he had actually enjoyed looking up at the vast sky.

London was not the best place for stargazing with its constant cloudy weather and foggy days, but he could still see them. Alex continued with his stargazing for a while as the street was quickly emptied, he tapped his foot lightly on the stone ground as he tilted his head slightly to the side and asked, 'Beautiful, isn't it?'

Alex knew someone was following him since he had left the bookshop, but he decided not to act until he had reached somewhere remotely deserted, which was currently in the middle of the square he was standing on. He knew that this junction between streets were only busy during the day, not at night, this place was as silent and empty as a graveyard, a perfect place for an ambush and a fight.

Alex watched as a hooded figure in white appeared from the shadow with the darkness parting ways for the person. Both men stared at each other, sizing the opponent up and waited for one of them to make the first move. With his photographic memory, Alex was certain this was the Assassin who had the entire city in alert to have him hunt down.

'I have to say, you are not really what I have expected,' Alex stated casually with his arms crossed and book still in hand. 'Though I get I should be honoured to be in your presence, Assassin.'

The killer was still silent. Alex wondered if the man was a mute, therefore Dupuis didn't even bother to look back to see who had truly entered his office. Alex's eyes went to scan for any weapon the man carried and found three main weapons and at least ten small ones. A flintlock pistol, a sword and a knife, sheathed throwing knives on the belt and forearm.

Alex doubted that that was everything the killer had on him, the virus focused on his sense of hearing while his eyes remained on Assassin. He could hear heartbeats around them and he estimated there were at least five people observing them, three on the rooftops and two behind Assassin. _So he didn't come alone._

'Aren't going to present your friends to me?' Alex asked lightly.

His question acted as a trigger for the hidden men to attack, Alex easily sidestepped away from the bullets that rained down from above him and ducked from the ones shot from Assassin and his lackey. Alex smirked at the smoke screen created from the smoking guns, he quickly switched to Thermal vision and began climbing up to the roof where the three assassins were. He caught the first one by the ankle and threw him off of the roof and began dispatching another attacker with his tomahawk and crushed the last one's head against the chimney. Alex then looked over the rooftop to see where Assassin and the remaining men were, but he only found an empty square.

Alex turned around just to find two hidden blades imbedded themselves into his eye sockets. The virus growled loudly as he slipped and fell to the ground that cracked in impact and his loose fingers released the book. He personally hated when someone fired or stabbed his head, because in a few short seconds, he was blind and disoriented as he waited for his face to regenerate. _No more mister nice guy_.

Alex immediately stood up from the crater of his own shape, he jerked his neck to the side and it cracked back into place. His eyes focused on the men who were staring at him in shock before he gave them a viciously grin, that promised pain and death, and called out clearly, 'My turn.'

He always returned the favour tenfold to those who had shot or stabbed him. Alex did not care if someone accidentally saw him, because the witness would, after what he was going to do to Assassin and his lackeys, either faint or go crazy by the amount of gore. Alex simply unleashed his powers instead of using his tomahawk. Claws were his first weapon to use. In the blink of an eye he had them through one of the hooded men's stomach and head. Alex changed his claws into a one-arm whip, which he extended to grab the assassins who started reloading their pistol, but Assassin ducked in time to escape his grasp while the other was not so lucky. With a small tug, the bio-organic whip tore through the man's stomach much as a metal wire cut through a block of clay. Before the lackey's body even fell into two pieces, Assassin already began his escape.

'Oh no, you don't,' Alex called out as he lashed out his arm whip to ensnare Assassin, but his target got out of reach again. _Damn. That guy is slippery._

Alex, with one jump, easily blocked the escape route of Assassin as he rushed towards with his arm whip shifted into the shape of a giant clever sword. His eyes focused on the chest where the sternum was located, not wanting to dismember the body too much that it was not possible for the examiner to determine that it was the corpse of the killer the government was hunting after and he did not want to spend hours explaining how he got the man cut in two clean parts.

When Assassin evaded his thrust, Alex inwardly thought. _After I have showed them Assassin's corpse, I will make sure to consume him._

Despite with no power of whatsoever, the man was able to dodge his attack, not even Blackwatch's soldiers were able to keep up with him, even with all of their fancy equipments. Still, it was best that he finished this fast, he had learned to never linger in one place too long unless he wanted troubles.

Assassin had emptied his entire arsenal of throwing knives, his empty pistol laid forgotten, his short dagger was imbedded in the ground, and the sword was his only and last weapon to defend himself with. Alex switched his limb back to a normal human hand and clapped his hands loudly, he applauded, 'Bravo! You are the first to survive my attacks for five minutes. Sadly, I can't let you leave with your life intact.'

Assassin simply readied his weapon, prepared to die, while Alex sighed as he morphed his hands into deadly claws once more before both of them charged towards the other, the sword skimmed his side while Alex had the claws imbedded in the chest, crushing the heart of the killer as the man exhaled his last pained gasp.

Alex removed his claws from the man, but out of a small amount of respect, he caught the dead man instead of just letting the body fall. Alex was not completely certain why he even showed respect to the dead assassin, but it might the influence of the Kanien'kehá:ka's sense of respect and honour. The virus smiled wryly at the memory of Ziio's wisdom towards the death of the animal, one life given to preserve another, someone's or something's death must be a necessity, not an act commited for pleasure but of survival. In this case, Assassin's death would give him money and would allow him to survive in this forsaken land another year.

Alex turned and allowed his tendrils to slither over the dismembered corpses to consume them. The Blacklight virus grabbed hold of his head with one hand, the other released its released its hold on the hood of Assassin, as he felt the tidal waves of memories crashed over him, he quickly focused on the similar memories the lackeys shared to dim the pain. He found out that it was easier and less painful to absorb multiple targets' memory if he found a similarity between them. In this situation, it was the training they had all received from Assassin. The Brotherhood they served in and their enemy the Templar Order. Alex frowned at the Templar word, but he pushed the thought into the back of his mind for now.

When the migraine was over, Alex picked up the book he had almost forgotten and hauled Assassin's corpse over his shoulder before he headed in the direction of the mayor's house, readied to get his just rewards.

* * *

Alex was glad that he had brought the book, because when he first arrived at the mayor's house, everyone thought he was joking about having caught the killer, it wasn't until he threatened one of guards with a horrific and bloody death did someone went to wake the mayor who after hearing the oh so joyous news sent some couriers to get some people who could identify Assassin. Afterwards, the mayor and his company locked themselves in the room with Alex reading in the guestroom.

The virus really wondered why it took so long for those bastards to identify Assassin, because studying someone's face did not take two hours to accomplish. Alex sighed frustratingly as he refocused on the printed words in the book.

When he heard the double doors' lock clicked open, he nearly jumped up and danced on his chair, happy that the wait was finally over, but Alex kept his cool and continued with his reading. He listened to the footsteps approaching until they stopped in front of him, Alex spared a glance from his book and was surprised to Reginald Birch standing over him, he lowered the book slightly and asked, 'Is there something I can help you?'

Birch ignored his question and asked, well more like demanded, 'Is it you who has killed the Assassin?'

Alex slammed his book shut as he stood up and answered politely, 'Yes, I am the one.'

Reginald's eyes studied him intently and Alex coolly stared back at the man, not liking the Englishman one bit. A few minutes later, Birch gave a fake smile to him and thanked him with a thin smile. 'Thank you for removing the black stain in our society, Sir...'

'Zeus,' said Alex. 'Bounty hunter.'

'Right,' said Birch, his facial expression showed that he doubted his ability. Probably because of his skin colour if Alex had to guess. 'We have a proposal to you. There is a cult in which men and women dressed in a similar fashion as our deceased killer, they will harm innocent citizens just for the pleasure. We want you to hunt each and every one of them down. Do this and for each cultist you capture or kill, you receive a bounty of 1000 pounds.'

Alex wore a thoughtful look for a moment before he extended his to the businessman and announced, 'Agreed.'

The deal was sealed with a firm handshake.

* * *

**Question to Dear Readers: Is the story's progress terrible or not?**


End file.
